


Pandering

by Miriadel_theRogue



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 11:58:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miriadel_theRogue/pseuds/Miriadel_theRogue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lizzie accuses William of pandering to her mother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pandering

**Author's Note:**

> _pan*der (verb): gratify or indulge_

“Finally!” Lizzie sighed in relief, falling over backwards and sprawling out on the bed in her one room apartment. William smiled, setting her suitcase down on an open space on the bed before picking up the bag she had dropped to the floor and taking it to her desk. “That was the longest weekend ever!” continued Lizzie, dramatically.

“You make it sound like such an ordeal,” he said. He pulled out Lizzie’s laptop to ensure it got plugged in and charged.

“Puh-lease.” Lizzie rolled over onto her stomach, watching him with her hair tousled. Pausing, William carefully listened to her words. “It was four days with my _mother_! Even I was amazed how many times she was able to drop how ‘rich and handsome’ you are into conversation.” When she slipped into the familiar accent of her mother, William turned away to weakly hide his smirk. “’Oh William, you’re sure to love this cheese platter: the flavor is so _rich_.’ ‘Elizabeth, why don’t you go over there and thank your handsome boyfriend for puttin’ those dishes away, go on now.’ ‘William, would you and Elizabeth mind terribly grabbin’ the newspaper from the driveway? Never you mind the dozen or so people out there doin’ yard work or joggin’ or somethin’ that isn’t blatantly starin’ at you because of how rich and handsome you are.’ ‘I was chattin’ with Emily Lu the other day and she was tellin’ me about how rich and successful her Charlotte Lu is gettin’ and I just couldn’t help but think about you, dear William.’”

“It was a very nice cheese platter,” stated William. 

When a pillow thudded against his back, extremely short of his head which he assumed was Lizzie’s intended goal, he didn’t even flinch. He did look over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows at her. Lizzie stuck out her tongue at him. “The most interesting thing on it was brie, which you hate because it has no flavor.”

William shrugged. “I do not hate it.”

“God,” huffed Lizzie. “You’re so noble.”

Her laptop would be ready the next time she needed it and William had checked for any other essentials before setting the bag beside her desk within easy reach. Now, he crossed to the bed, laying a hand on the top of Lizzie’s suitcase. “Are you planning to unpack anytime soon?” he said coyly, hoping to change the subject.

“Nope. But if it bothers you,” she teased knowingly. Shaking his head, William unzipped the parcel, flipping the top over and looking at the contents. 

As he began sorting through clothes that needed to be laundered and those that could be hung up in her tiny closet or the toiletries that needed to be taken to the bathroom, Lizzie launched back into whatever thought she had been pursuing before he interrupted her with talk of unpacking. “You know if you keep sucking up to my mother she’s only going to get worse.”

“I’m not sucking up to your mother,” he said indignantly.

“Will,” she laughed. “That’s what it is. _I know_ you’re just trying to be nice because you were worried she hated you, which, granted, she kind of did, but the moment she knew you liked me that flew out the window.”

“Is it wrong to be nice to your mother?”

Lizzie sat up now, waggling a finger at him. “See, you’re pandering.”

“I’ve never in my life pandered. To anyone.”

“Except my mother.”

“I resent the implication that—“

“True or false: at one point this weekend, you drove my mother to her monthly bridge game where she introduced you to every woman there as ‘Mister William Darcy, my middle daughter’s handsome, rich, successful, CEO boyfriend.’” 

He certainly wasn’t stalling as he folded one of Lizzie’s blouses and then dropped it into her laundry basket. “True.”

“Imagine that. Now, true or false, you ate every plate of food my mother put in front of you, even if it was a third helping or brie.”

“That would be true.” William started gathering up items that needed to be in her bathroom. 

“Now, smart guy, can you define ‘pandering’?”

“Your point is well made without rubbing it in.”

William started towards the bathroom, but Lizzie stopped him. “I’m just trying to say that it doesn’t matter what my parents think, especially my mother.” Lizzie sounded more serious now, and William turned back, watching her intently. Instead of looking at him, she was admiring the zipper on her suitcase. If she could feel him watching her, she didn’t make it known, although she did look up then. “I think you’re wonderful and I thought that before you did spectacularly with what I know was a pretty trying weekend.”

“Lizzie, I don’t find your family trying.” He worried that some of those judgmental thoughts he had shared well over a year ago still haunted them.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” she said earnestly. “Just that I know how hard you’re trying and I know being the center of attention wears you out.” Lizzie rolled her eyes. “I’m trying to say I’m proud of you, but it’s coming out all wrong.” 

“You’re proud of me?” he said, his voice breaking.

Lizzie met his eyes, nearly losing him in the depths of emotion he saw there. “Yeah.” 

Mutely, William nodded, taking an inordinate amount of time to regain the ability to speak. “I should—finish unpacking,” he roughly pointed in the direction of the bathroom.

Her lips curled up into a brilliant smile. “Whatever.” 

Quickly, he arranged her things in the bathroom and returned. Lizzie had moved the empty suitcase off the bed and laid right back down on the bed. William smiled, sliding his hands into his pockets as he said, “You’re right. There were some things about this weekend I found particularly trying.” 

“Oh,” Lizzie said, matching the light teasing in his tone. She crawled up so she was on her knees, facing him and playing with the edges of his suspenders. “And what was that?”

“Your mother did force us to share a bed. For three nights.”

“And you hated that?” Lizzie said, her eyebrows raised curiously.

He leaned in, brushing hair away from her ear. “It was a very small bed.”

“Oh shut up,” she playfully swatted his chin. His smile broadened as her hand pulled away. “You enjoyed every minute of it.”

“Only because I was pandering to your mother.”

“I knew it!”

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a list of tropes I found randomly on the internet. I would give you credit if I remembered where I found it, so know that I attribute this fic to the magic of the internet. 
> 
> Thanks once again to my lovely beta Stef. Her attention to commas is exceptional.


End file.
